Hide and Seek
by PonchoLives
Summary: When a murder leads Nick and Grissom to the door of a prosecutor, they learn the hard way that sometimes the truth is better left hidden. Mainy Nickcentric.
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Hide and Seek"

Author: PonchoLives

Category: Drama/Angst

Disclaimer: I own nothing except that laptop that this story was composed on.

Summary: When a murder leads Nick and Grissom to the door of a prosecutor, they learn the hard way that sometimes the truth is better left hidden. (Mainy Nick-centric.)

Chapter One

"And so, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you to remember Ruthie Gellar, a sweet, innocent, little girl who's life ended before it hardly had the chance to begin."

The prosecutor's melodic voice filled the courtroom as she took a step closer to the jury. Her every movement portrayed an air of established confidence without losing any of its feminine grace. This young woman attired in a navy blue business suit had commanded the attention of everyone in the room with the force of her words and the power of her presence from the moment she had spoken her first word.

"It is your duty to see that the man responsible for her death pays for his act of violence against her. You have the power to put this man behind bars, to make sure that he cannot ever do to another innocent child what he did to Ruthie."

She paused after this, allowing a deafening silence to fill the courtroom until it almost became unbearable. She took a moment to look each juror in the face, forcing their eyes to lock briefly with hers whether they wanted to or not.

When she spoke again, the tone of her voice held a steely note of determination. "But it is not my desire to give an impassioned plea and play upon your hearts in order to secure a guilty verdict. I am imploring your minds to examine the evidence - the evidence that clearly identifies the defendant as her killer. Do not ignore the truth that is staring you in the face. Turn not a deaf ear upon the cries of the victimized innocent. Thank you."

The prosecutor held the gaze of the jury one final time before returning to her seat.

With a smack of the gavel, the judge dismissed the jury and called a recess. The young prosecutor stood up, placed her papers in her briefcase and prepared to leave the courtroom.

It was only when the crowd of people who had been watching the trial started to get up and make noise that she lowered her defenses a bit by absentmindedly running her fingers through her blonde hair. This action made Nick Stokes smile. He loved it when she did that.

The CSI had been sitting in the back of the room, but as the crowd began to disperse, he quickly moved forward to the young woman.

"That was a great closing, Emily," he said by way of a greeting.

Emily turned her head at the sound of her name and gave Nick a rather apprehensive smile.

"Think so? I was so nervous. With all the butterflies in my stomach, I thought I was going to be sick right there in the middle of the room," Emily confided as they made their way out of the courtroom.

"Well, I never would have guessed it and I pride myself on being able to read people's emotions," Nick reassured her.

They pushed their way into the hallway, joining the crowd of people who were all rushing about their own business. It seemed that everyone moved at top speed in a courthouse. Rather than stand in the hallway and get jostled by the passers by, Nick steered Emily towards an empty bench he had spotted and they sat down.

"So, Investigator Stokes, what brings you here? You already did your part." She inclined her head slightly as she looked at him and gave him a small smile.

"Well, I knew you were nervous since it was your first case as lead prosecutor. Even slam dunk cases can be nerve-wracking." Nick flashed her a smile of his own which caused Emily's to grow wider.

"It was only a slam dunk because of your testimony. You did a great job. Really, I mean it. I don't know how you can get up there and make all that scientific stuff make sense to regular people like me." Emily's blue eyes shown with genuine admiration as they connected with Nick's brown ones.

"Believe me. I've had lots of practice," Nick told her. "But don't discount yourself. You handled yourself like a pro in there, and like I said, your closing comments were terrific. It's clear that you have a lot of passion for your job."

"Well, someone has to fight for those who can't fight for themselves. That's what people like you and me are here for." She bit her lip after saying this and shifted her gaze to her hands, which were folded in her lap.

Nick nodded in silent agreement. Emily's strong desire to seek justice for the victims of horrible crimes was a commonality they both shared. While she portrayed the professional, no-nonsense exterior in the courtroom, her heart was tender and it ached for those who could not help themselves. Just like his did.

Nick cleared his throat before speaking again. "So Miss Trent, may I escort you to lunch in order to celebrate your impending success? My treat?" His eyes twinkled expectantly.

The faintest touch of pink appeared on Emily's cheeks as she replied, "A celebration lunch is a bit premature, don't you think? However, a girl's gotta eat. So, yes, you may escort me to lunch, Mr. Stokes."

"Terrific," the Texan said, rising to his feet. He offered a hand and helped Emily to hers.

As they walked out of the courthouse, Nick heard an all too familiar beep at his waist. He grabbed his beeper and pressed his lips together tightly.

Grissom.

"Looks like my recess is over." he sighed dejectedly. So much for his day off.

"Ah, such is the life of the civil servant." Emily gave a knowing smile.

With an apologetic look, he asked, "Can I get a rain check, counselor?"

"You know where to find me." She placed her hand on his arm, which let him know that he was forgiven.

With a parting smile, Nick Stokes took off down the steps of the courthouse. He had a date with an entomologist and a DB.

* * *

Nick arrived at the scene, the alley behind Fresh Choice Market, an hour later. Fresh Choice Market was one of those high-priced, all-natural food stores, and it was located in an upscale neighborhood known for it's low crime rate.

Nick's case swung idly at his side as he nodded hello to the cop who was standing guard over the perimeter of the crime scene. As he ducked under the yellow tape, Brass said a few words in parting to a teenager wearing a red apron and made his way over to Nick.

"Hey Nicky. You're a good sport to come in on your day off. Hope we didn't pull you away from something too exciting." Brass patted Nick on the back with a roguish grin.

Nick gave the detective a small smile before getting down to business. "What's the story here?" he asked. He set his case on the ground, opened it and pulled out a pair of gloves. He put them on with a snap.

Brass glanced at his notes. "Male DB. The store clerk over there was taking out the trash and found our victim lying on some old crates next to the dumpster. Called 911."

Anticipating Nick's next question, he added, "And no, nobody saw or heard a thing."

Nick thanked Brass and walked over to where Grissom was hunched over the body with his camera, watching the coroner get a read on the liver temperature. Nick breathed deep, taking in the stench of rotting vegetables.

"Hey Gris. Got here as soon as I could." Nick knelt down next to his supervisor. He nodded a hello to David and turned his eyes to the body.

The victim appeared to be in his mid thirties and in good physical condition. He was wearing jeans and a light blue dress shirt that had been stained red with the flow of blood that had undoubtedly poured from the gash on his neck. Bruises and blood marred his otherwise handsome facial features and Nick noticed that his black hair was matted with blood as well.

"At first glance, cause of death would appear to be loss of blood, but we'll know for sure after the autopsy." Grissom kept his eyes on the body and pointed to the area around the victim before continuing. "And since there's no blood pool, it stands to reason that this is not our primary crime scene."

Nick nodded in agreement. He voiced a thought that had occurred to him. "Upscale, quiet neighborhood like this seems an odd place for a body dump."

Grissom refrained from commenting on Nick's thought. He shifted his weight as he patiently waited for the young coroner to finish his work.

"Liver temp indicates that he died about 12 hours ago." David informed them.

Nick consulted his watch. "So that puts time of death at about one o'clock this morning."

"Okay fellas. He's all yours." David gestured to CSIs, signaling that they were free to search the body for evidence.

Grissom began to feel the man's pockets for some form of identification. He found none, but his search was not futile. He extracted something from the breast pocket of the victim's shirt. It was a picture of a young boy holding a little girl. Grissom flipped it over and read aloud, "Peter, age 7, and Hannah, age 1."

"The fact that it's not soaked in blood indicates that it was placed in his pocket after he bled out. Must be important to the killer somehow." Nick observed thoughtfully.

Grissom handed the photo over without comment and Nick took a closer look at it. "That's gotta be an old photo. Taken maybe twenty years ago. Possibly more. Either that or the owners of this house are stuck in a time warp."

An idea struck Nick as he bagged the photo. "Maybe Peter's our vic." He glanced at Grissom, hoping for some kind of reaction, but again, Nick's comments went unanswered. He wondered vaguely if Grissom was even listening to him.

Giving up, he watched Grissom continue to rummage through the victim's pockets until he finally produced a room key.

"The Lucky Ace Motel," Grissom read. He flipped it over. "Room 125."

"The Lucky Ace, huh? That's kind of a run-down place with a shady reputation. Could be our primary." Nick said, taking the key from his boss and bagging it as well.

Grissom turned to look at Nick for the first time since he had arrived at the crime scene. "Why don't you head over there? I'll go back with the body. There's nothing else to do here."

Nick thought he detected the faintest hint of annoyance in Grissom's voice which aggravated him. Only Grissom would give him the silent treatment and speak to him in chastising tones for not arriving at the scene sooner to help him. Nick had been enjoying his day off, or trying to at any rate, like he was supposed to be when he'd been called in. Did Grissom expect him to be sitting at home, field kit in hand, waiting for his page? No matter what he did, Nick never seemed able to please his supervisor.

Nick sighed in frustration and got to his feet, muttering, "Lucky Ace, here I come."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Nick's original description of the "Lucky Ace" was slightly off. It was not "kinda run-down". It was dilapidated - your stereotypical seedy motel where rooms were rented by the hour and only Heaven knew what went on in them. Even the air surrounding the place smelled immoral.

Despite the fact that there were a few cars in the parking lot, the motel gave the impression of being completely vacant. There was not a soul in sight except for the two men standing just outside the door of room 125.

Brass had tagged along to make sure the hotel room was secure. The clerk at the front desk had given them the spare room key after Brass had flashed his badge. When Brass asked if he remembered the person who had rented the room, the clerk replied that he didn't get paid to remember faces. He got paid to forget them. This did not make the detective happy.

As Nick used his gloved hand to place the spare key in the lock, Brass said, "Let me clear the room first, okay?. Stay back, Nicky."

Nick nodded and turned the key in the lock. He then pressed his back against the wall and watched the detective give the door a slight push and allow the door to swing open. With his gun drawn, he stepped carefully and quietly into the room, his eyes peeled for any sign of movement.

After completing his search, the homicide detective stepped back outside and waved Nick in. "This is definitely your primary crime scene. Make sure you breathe through your nose."

Nick grimaced and stepped inside. His nostrils were immediately assaulted by a strong metallic smell. There was blood in this room - a lot of it. Before going further though, he let his eyes survey the room.

There was a bed, covered by a stained flower bedspread. A banged up dresser with a void on top of it where, Nick suspected, a television must have once resided. On the other side of the bed, next to the wall, was a rickety wooden table and a chair. He saw a door leading to a bathroom about the size of his closet. Raising his camera, he silently began to photograph the room.

Nick's eye caught something on the table thatlooked suspiciously like a wallet. Perhaps their John Doe was about to get a name.

As Nick walked past the bed, he stopped short. There was the blood he had been smelling. It was covering the seat of the chair and had pooled on the floor beneath it.

He also noticed ropes on the arms of the chair. Their victim must have been tied to the chair, had his throat slit, and been left to bleed out before being moved. Again, he raised his camera to document his discovery.

Carefully sidestepping the blood, Nick picked up the wallet and opened it. He was met with two surprises. The first being that the victim's name wasn't Peter and the second being the gold badge.

He let out a deep sigh. "Brass, this is him. Adam Pryor. California license. And there's this." Nick held up the wallet for Brass, who had been lingering at the doorway, to see. "He's a cop."

Brass pressed his lips together. "There's a car out here with California plates. I'm gonna run them and see if the vehicle belongs to our guy."

Nick nodded, pulling out his cell phone in order to call Grissom.

When he heard the familiar voice, Nick said, "Hey boss. I found our vic's wallet in the motel room. His name is Adam Pryor. He's 34 and he's from Los Angeles. There's a car out here that might be his. Brass is running the plates. If it belongs to him, I'll check it out."

Across town, Grissom, walking at a brisk pace towards the morgue, answered Nick. "Okay, good. Anything else?"

"Yeah. He's a cop." Nick informed him.

Grissom sighed deeply. "Okay. You process every inch of that room and the vehicle if it's his. I'll call LAPD and see what they know. I managed to get some prints off the photo and the room key, and I'll get those compared to our cop's prints. We'll meet up at the lab later. Right now though, I'm headed for the autopsy."

"Will do." Grissom heard Nick's voice say before hanging up. He pocketed his cell phone and pushed through the swinging doors of the morgue.

"Hello, Albert." he greeted his colleague.

"Gil." Doc Robbins nodded a hello. "I've been getting acquainted with your victim. I took his prints and sent them to the lab. Maybe we'll get a name for this poor soul."

"Already got one. Adam Pryor, a cop from LA." Gil informed him.

Doc Robbins shook his head slowly as he digested this revelation. It was always difficult for him to perform an autopsy on the body of a cop.

"Well, the last twenty-four hours of his life were not pleasant. His body is covered in cuts and bruises in various stages of healing. The ligature marks on his wrists indicate that he was restrained," Doc Robbins pointed a finger at one of the victim's wrist before continuing. "Which probably explains why I didn't find any offensive wounds. I don't think any one would take a beating like this without attempting to fight back unless he was restrained, least of all a cop."

The coroner paused for a moment as Grissom leaned forward to examine the ligature marks more closely. "Those are deep. He was tied very tightly." Gil observed and Robbins nodded in agreement.

"As far as injuries go, he has a dislocated shoulder, five broken ribs, a broken nose, some internal bleeding due to damage he sustained to his kidneys and liver, a gash on the back of his head, and a concussion. And of course, the slash across the throat. It's deep, Gil. It reached his spine. That cut was made with extreme force," Robbins summed up, shifting his eyes from the body to look at Grissom.

"And a lot of anger. This was personal. COD?" Grissom asked, although he already knew the answer.

"He bled out." Robbins confirmed.

"Thank you, Doctor." Grissom said with a nod. He turned on his heel and headed out the door.

* * *

A few hours later, Nick was getting ready to meet up with Grissom to discuss the case. His search of the hotel room had turned up nothing unusual. He had collected a sample to drop off with Greg. However, in his search of Adam Pryor's vehicle, he had come across something wholly unexpected and it had caused an uneasy feeling to settle in the pit of his stomach. Before he could deal with that though, he needed to see Greg.

Greg Sanders was someone Nick enjoyed very much. He had an interesting sense of humor and an even more interesting sense of fashion as evidenced by the colorful shirt he was currently wearing. In fact, the only thing louder than the spiky-haired lab tech's shirt was the music he was blasting. Nick walked over to the stereo and switched it off.

"I'll never understand how you can get anything done with all that racket." Nick shook his head in wonder, a smile on his face as he moved over to recline against Greg's workstation.

"What? I find it soothing," Greg responded, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He clapped his hands together in anticipation like a little kid about to get a tasty treat. "You got something for me?"

"Yeah. I collected these epithelials from a length of rope used to bind my vic. I want you to see if you can get some DNA out of them and then run it through CODIS, okay? They should still be fresh enough for you. Let me or Grissom know what you find." Nick handed over the swab.

"For you, anything. I just have to finish this DNA comparison for Warrick and then I swear to get right on it." Greg promised, giving Nick a mock salute.

Nick clapped a hand on the lab tech's shoulder in appreciation and turned to leave when Greg called out, "Oh, by the way, your prosecutor friend came by earlier looking for you. I told her you were hard at work in the field, but being the gentleman that I am, I offered to take a message for you."

Nick whirled around in surprise. He'd forgotten all about the trial. The jury must have reached a verdict. Had it only been this morning that he'd been sitting in the courtroom listening to Emily's closing argument? It seemed like days ago to him. "And?" Nick asked expectantly.

Greg held his breath for dramatic effect before announcing, "The verdict came back guilty." He watched Nick's face break into an involuntary smile.

Feeling mischievous, Greg continued, "You know, she's kinda hot. Intelligent. Appreciates my sense of humor and my keen fashion sense. Maybe I should ask her out."

"Down, boy." Nick ordered as he turned towards the door again. "Besides, I really don't think she's your type."

"Oh really? Who's type is she then?" Greg asked in mock curiosity.

Nick didn't answer, but shot Greg a warning look over his shoulder. He switched the stereo back on before exiting the lab, leaving the lab tech to his own amusement.

* * *

While waiting for Nick, Grissom had busied himself with the paperwork that had been piling up on his desk. He gladly set it aside when Nick knocked to announce his presence. When Nick had seated himself in front of him, the older CSI began to update him on what he had uncovered so far.

"Jacqui compared the prints I lifted off the room key to Pryor's and got a match. However, the prints I got off the photo are not a match to Pryor's. So for now, we can assume that they belong to our killer. We ran the prints and got nothing. Our guy's not in the system."

"Not yet anyway." Nick interjected.

Grissom continued as if the interruption had not taken place. "I spoke with Pryor's partner at the LAPD and he didn't even know that Pryor was missing. His partner said that he was heading to San Francisco for a much-needed vacation. It had been scheduled for months, and as far as his partner knew, he was going alone."

Grissom paused to take a breath before continuing. "His partner also told me that Pryor was single. No kids. He's an only child and his parents are dead. Killed in a car crash ten years ago. There's no next of kin to contact."

Grissom crossed his arms over his chest, signaling to Nick that it was his turn. Clearing his throat, the younger man walked through his findings.

"I recovered some epithelials from the end of the rope used to tie Pryor to the chair. I just dropped them off with Greg. And Pryor's vehicle was definitely the one used to make the body dump. I found evidence of blood in the trunk. I also got two sets of prints on the steering wheel."

Leaning back in his chair, Nick concluded with this observation. "One thing's for sure, our killer's not too bright. He's leaving pieces of himself all over this crime."

"That or perhaps he just doesn't care about getting caught." Grissom tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"What kind of guy doesn't care about getting caught?" Nick wondered, confusion etched on his face. "Surely he doesn't want to go to jail."

Grissom pulled off his glasses and began to clean them with the corner of his lab coat. "Maybe he cared more about committing the crime. Maybe he doesn't care or isn't worried about getting caught. For some people, the thrill of the kill outweighs the prospect of prison time or even the death penalty for that matter."

"Okay, say that's true. Why go to the risk of kidnaping a cop and bringing him to Vegas just to kill him and dump his body? The killer could have done that in LA. Why come here? And what's with the photo in his pocket?" Nick asked, spreading his hands in confusion.

"I don't know." Grissom admitted, allowing the tiniest hint of frustration to creep into his voice. He hated when clues didn't make sense, especially when there was so little evidence to go on. He placed his glasses back on his face. "Is that it?"

Nick hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "No. I, uh, found something else while I was searching the car. I don't know if it means anything, but it struck me as odd so I bagged it. Found it when I pulled the sun visor down."

He slid an evidence bag across the desk to Grissom who picked it up in order to examine the photograph inside.

"That's Adam Pryor." Grissom stated. Then he stopped for a moment and stared harder at the photo before looking up at Nick in astonishment. "Is this who I think it is?"

Nick nodded, exhaling. "Yeah, that's Emily Trent."

"Perhaps she knows why a cop from LA ended up dead in Vegas." Grissom mused.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Even though it was a little past nine o'clock, Grissom and Nick headed over to Emily Trent's condo. She lived in a gated community in an upper middle class neighborhood. It was a single story condo located on the end of the street. The lawn was well-maintained, having recently been mowed, and her garden was picturesque with pink roses that were in full bloom.

Grissom had decided that they needed to talk to Emily as soon as possible. They had no leads and one confusing clue that made no sense in relation to the crime and the victim. The only thing that connected Adam to Las Vegas was the photograph of him and Emily. It was a lead worth pursuing as it was their only one at the moment.

Nick was apprehensive as Grissom knocked on Emily's door. There could be any number of reasons why the victim had a photo of Emily and himself. Maybe they were friends. Maybe he was an ex-boyfriend. Maybe he was a current boyfriend. Though if he was a current boyfriend, why hadn't she mentioned him before? He felt that they had spent a lot of time together over the past few months and had gotten to know each other fairly well. The mention of a boyfriend had never come up.

He silently chided himself for worrying too much. There had to be some kind of logical explanation for the photo. Of course there was. Nick was sure of it.

Emily answered the door in jeans and a t-shirt which caught Nick off-guard. He was so used to seeing her in suits that he almost didn't recognize her in casual clothes. He liked it though. She looked carefree and about five years younger.

"Mr. Grissom. Nick. Pleasure to see you. Please come in." She ushered them inside with a smile. She was not surprised to see them as Grissom had the courtesy to call her before coming over.

"We're sorry to bother you at this hour, but it's important to our investigation." Grissom apologized, as he and Nick followed her into the house. The wooden floor creaked under their feet as they followed Emily into her living room.

She sat down in a red leather recliner, leaving the couch for Grissom and Nick. Her posture was open and inviting. She appeared to be completely unphased by their late-night intrusion. Nick wondered vaguely how she would feel after Grissom started questioning her.

"Not at all. I just hope I can be of service." The tone of her voice was as genuine as the smile on her face.

Grissom wasted no time in getting down to business.

"Emily, do you know a man by the name of Adam Pryor? He's a cop from Los Angeles."

"Adam Pryor." Emily repeated the name. She inclined her head to one side and appeared to think for a moment. Both CSIs were carefully studying her every move, looking for any sign of recognition. "No, I don't think I know anyone by that name."

"Are you sure? He's not a boyfriend, old or current?" Nick asked, a slight edge to his voice. He moved to the edge of his seat and rested his elbows on his knees, fixing her with a penetrating gaze.

Emily's brow furrowed a touch as her eyes flickered towards Nick. Her voice lost a touch of its former warmth as she replied, "No. Never dated an Adam."

"Well, can you explain this?" Grissom handed her the photo that Nick had recovered from Pryor's vehicle. "That is you, isn't it?"

Emily's back went rigid as she stared at the photo. Nick got the distinct impression that she was doing some quick thinking which disturbed him. He felt his own body tense as he watched her. Everything rested on the words that were about to come out of her mouth. He saw this kind of behavior every day when someone was confronted with evidence that contradicted what they had claimed to be true.

Finally, she clamped a hand on her forehead.

"Yes, that's me. Oh, I'd completely forgotten about him!" She ran her fingers through her hair, keeping her eyes on the photo. "A few years ago, I was in San Francisco and I was trying to get to the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. I got lost and this guy, Adam, helped me get there. We ended up spending the rest of the day together. I remember him being a really nice guy. Where'd you get this photo?"

Nick fought the urge to shake his head in disappointment at her fairly lame story. He would have thought that a prosecutor could have come up with a better one that that. His disappointment faded though when Emily finally looked up. Nick saw that her face did not match the emotion in her voice. She was speaking as if she were merely shocked by the recollection of a forgotten encounter, but her eyes were almost fearful.

"We found it in his car this afternoon. He died earlier today." Grissom informed her, never taking his eyes off of her face.

As he said this, Nick thought he a detected a flash of panic pass over Emily's face but it was gone before he could be sure. Her voice was quivered a touch when she asked, "How did he die?"

"He was murdered." Nick answered bluntly. "Did you know he was in Vegas? Did he try to contact you?"

Emily shook her head. "No. I haven't seen or heard from him since San Francisco."

"If that's true, why does he keep a picture of the two of you in his car? To me that suggests you had a relationship with him that lasted more than one day. Either that or you made quite an impression on him." Nick countered, his eyes locking with Emily's for a moment before she looked away.

Tiny beads of perspiration began to dot Emily's forehead and she swiped a hand across it. Struggling to keep her voice calm, she breathed, "I don't know why it was there. It doesn't make sense."

This was the first statement out of her mouth regarding the photo that Nick believed. She did seem genuinely confused as to why the photograph had been inAdam's car.

Switching tactics, Grissom leaned forward and asked, "Do you know who Peter and Hannah are?"

Emily stared at Grissom with a blank expression on her face. She seemed to be lost in thought. "Miss Trent? Do you know who they are?" Grissom asked again.

Emily snapped to attention and stood up so abruptly that it threw the CSIs off-guard. Her movements were jerky and when she spoke, her words were rushed and her tone was rather flustered. "No, I don't know who they are. I don't know anyone by those names. I'm sorry that I can't be more helpful. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Grissom shook his head and stood up. Nick followed suit. "Thank you for your time, Miss Trent."

Without another word, she shooed them to the door and shut it tightly behind them. As they made their way to the SUV, Nick looked at Grissom. "So, you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Most definitely. Our Miss Trent is lying."

* * *

"So what do we do now?" Nick asked as he turned the key in the ignition.

"Back to the lab. For the moment, we can only assume she's lying about the length of their relationship but that doesn't mean she killed him or that she even knows who did." Grissom said.

"But she was so upset. That's gotta mean something, doesn't it?" Nick stole a glance at his passenger who did not respond.

Nick drove in silence for a few minutes, lost in his thoughts. Why would Emily lie to them? Was she hiding something? If so, what was it? It frustrated Nick to no end that someone he trusted and cared about could look him in the face and lie to him like that. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, feeling his anger begin to rise.

The sound of Grissom's cell phone snapped Nick out of his reverie.

"Grissom." he answered.

"Hey boss. It's Greg. I extracted some DNA from the sample Nick collected from the rope. It was enough for a comparison so I ran it against the cop's DNA in order to rule it out and I got a partial match. Thirteen alleles in common." Greg informed him.

"That would mean he's related to his killer." Grissom's thoughts were racing at the implications.

"Yup and the DNA belongs to a male." Greg said.

"Good work, Greg." Grissom hung up the phone and barked an order to Nick. "Turn around. We're going back."

Nick obeyed and shot his boss a look. "You gonna tell me what's up?"

"Adam Pryor was killed by a male relative which I find interesting since his partner told me that his parents are dead, and he doesn't have any kids." Grissom's voice had a trace of excitement in it which told Nick that the man's mind was moving at a rapid pace, fitting the pieces of their case together.

"What does this have to do with Emily?" Nick asked. His question was met with silence so Nick turned his attention to the road.

They arrived at Emily's house a few minutes later and found it dark. Grissom marched purposefully to the front door and gave a determined knock.

Instead of hearing the sound of feet approaching, they heard the garage door open. Backtracking, they saw Emily preparing to back her car out of the garage. She stopped when she saw the black SUV blocking her way.

Grissom made his way to the driver's side and Emily rolled her window down. "Going somewhere Miss Trent?" The CSI's tone was casual.

"Actually, yes. I was heading to my office. I realized that there was some paperwork that I needed to finish for a case I'm working on." Emily was slightly breathless and her movements were erratic. Grissom noticed that she was wearing a jacket and had a backpack in the seat next to her.

With a boyish grin, Grissom rested one hand on the roof of her car and leaned closer. "I'm sorry, but I realized that there was another question I wanted to ask you. Do you mind?"

Emily had no choice but to agree.

"Do you have any family living nearby?" Grissom asked.

Nick was taken by surprise. He hadn't been expecting that question. Where was Grissom going with this?

Emily also looked surprised at this question but answered it. "No. My parents died awhile ago and I'm an only child. Now can you please move your car? I need to get to my office."

Grissom ignored her request. "Did they die in a car crash? About ten years ago?"

"Yes. Now, please, let me go. I need to go." Emily was becoming frantic. She kept stealing glances at her rearview mirror as if expecting to catch someone sneaking up on her.

"That's interesting." Grissom replied with feigned interest. He took no notice Emily's emotional state. "Did you know that the same thing happened to Adam Pryor's parents?"

"No." she answered, shaking her head repeatedly. Her already fragile state was beginning to deteriorate even further and Nick was rapidly becoming concerned. Whatever anger he had been feeling towards Emily had long since dissipated. He placed a warning hand on Grissom's shoulder, but the supervisor ignored it. The younger man hoped his boss knew what he was doing.

"Did you know that Adam was also an only child? That's another thing you have in common." Grissom told her with a smile.

At this, Emily abandoned all pretenses and gave way to tears. "You don't understand! You have to let me go! Please! He's going to find me!" she begged the scientist, her face stricken with fear.

"Who? Who's going to find you, Hannah?" Grissom's tone switched instantly from the casual, almost mocking one he had adopted to one of deep, genuine concern and he leaned even closer to her.

Emily gave an involuntary shudder at being addressed by that name. With her fists, she pounded the steering wheel in frustration, tears streaking down her face, and shouted, "That's not my name! Hannah Douglass is dead!"

"Who's Hannah Douglass? Emily, I need you to look at me! Talk to me! I can't help you if you don't talk to me!" Grissom reached into the car and placed a hand on the sobbing woman's shoulder, but she shook it off with a violent jerk.

Emily turned her tear-stricken face to Nick and whispered, "Please. Help me. Let me go." Her eyes pleaded with his.

The look in her eyes made Nick's heart ache. He wanted to forcibly move Grissom out of the way and let Emily go, but deep down, he knew better and shook his head. "If someone's trying to hurt you, you have to tell us. We can help you. You don't have to be afraid."

Nick lowered himself to Emily's line of sight and forced Grissom to move over. He spoke to her in a calm soothing tone, his eyes never leaving hers. "Come back to the lab with us."

"I can't! He'll find me! I can't let him find me!" Emily whispered in quiet desperation.

"He won't find you. You'll be safe at the lab. We'll take care of you and we can talk safely there. I promise that he's not going to hurt you. I won't let him. You can trust me. You do trust me, right?" Nick asked with a small smile.

Emily nodded.

Nick nodded his head to reassure her and ever so slowly reached inside to unlock the car door. He moved back slightly so he could open it. Nick held his hand out for her. Taking it, shestepped out of the car.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The ride back to the lab had been a quiet one. Grissom drove because Emily did not seem capable of letting go of Nick. So the younger CSI had seated himself in the backseat with the shaken prosecutor. The only sound from the backseat was Emily's quiet sobs which she was trying desperately to get under control.

Nick was going back and forth between his annoyance at Grissom for pushing Emily to an emotional breakdown and his relief that they might actually get to the bottom of this confusing ordeal. He wasn't sure what was going on though it seemed that Grissom had a fairly good idea. He was somewhatfrustrated that Grissom had not been more forthcoming with his thoughts. They were supposed to be working on this case as a team, but during these past couple of hours, Nick was feeling very much like a spectator.

When they arrived at the lab, Emily was escorted to Grissom's office, where Brass was waiting for them. Grissom had notified the detective of the situation from the car and asked him to meet them at his office.

They chose to meet in Grissom's office out of a professional courtesy to Emily while also reasoning that it would be a less intimidating environment than an interrogation room. The goal was to make Emily feel safe and comfortable enough to talk freely with them.

Grissom sat at his desk and Brass reclined against the bookcase behind him. Emily sat across from them and Nick seated himself in the chair next to her.

Grissom leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. "Okay, Emily. Can you please tell us what you know? Who's after you? Do you know who killed Adam Pryor?"

"Before I say anything, would you please tell me where you heard the names Peter and Hannah? How do you even know about them?" she asked. She had managed to pull herself together, and even though she looked slightly disheveled, the initial fear that had ruled her had lost its hold and she had regained her confident demeanor.

Grissom hesitated for a moment but decided to answer her question since she was about to freely answer his. "We found an old picture of them in the breast pocket of Adam's shirt and we're fairly certain it was placed there by the killer. We're assuming that it's relevant to Adam's death although we're not certain how."

Emily digested this information for a moment. She exhaled slowly, shifted her eyes to the floor, and began to speak.

"Okay, in order for this all to make sense, I need to tell you about Hannah Douglass. She was the second child born to Richard and Susan Douglass of Pocahontas, Arkansas. She had a brother named Peter who was six years older. When she was born, Peter was immediately taken with Hannah. He loved her more than anything. As they grew older, they became inseparable. Best friends. They relied on each other for survival because life in the Douglass household was not easy."

"Richard Douglass was a hard, cruel man who delighted in the torment of his wife. He was both verbally and physically abusive towards her until she became a hollow shell of a woman. Of course to the world, Richard presented a different face, that of a loving husband and father. He would cry on the shoulders of various townspeople about how his wife suffered from depression and nothing he could do would cheer her, and they would comfort him and tell him how wonderful he was to stay with her through these hard times. So it came as no surprise to the townspeople when Susan Douglass took her own life."

"What people didn't realize was that Susan did not take her own life. Richard had killed her - staged it to look like a suicide. Peter and Hannah, who were 16 and 10 at the time, knew it though. Peter, afraid for his life and the life of his sister, made an effort to convince the townspeople that Richard had killed his wife but to no avail and only succeeded in earning a reputation as a troublemaker."

"Up until this time, Richard had been only mildly abusive to his children because he had preferred to focus most of energy on his wife, but Peter's accusations against Richard changed all that. Instead of beating Peter, who Richard knew was more than capable of fighting back, he locked him in the basement and proceeded to punish his son by beating his daughter. This produced the desired effect. For the next two years, Peter toed the line in an effort to keep his sister safe. He took his beatings without a fight because he knew Hannah would suffer all the more if he did."

As she finished saying this, Emily unconsciously rubbed the wrist of her right hand. She paused for a moment, her eyes transfixed by the sight of her own foot pawing at the floor. Finally, she exhaled heavily, cleared her throat, and continued.

"When Peter turned 18, Richard kicked him out of the house and told him that if he ever set foot inside it again, it would be the last thing he ever did. So Peter left. He moved one town over and got a job. The thought of leaving his sister to live alone with Richard tormented him though. When he could get the chance, Peter would meet her during the lunch hour at school to see how she was doing. He never risked coming to the house."

"For the first couple of years, Hannah was okay for the most part. She suffered no serious physical abuse, just the occasional broken nose and sprained limb, and she became adept at covering up her bruises. She also managed to survive under the constant emotional abuse to which she was subjected. Things changed though when Hannah went through puberty. "

Emily shifted in her seat and the level of tension in the room rose exponentially. Just like in the courtroom earlier that day, Emily kept her audience captivated by her words. It was amazing how she could sit in that chair and relate such a horrible story of abuse while keeping her voice calm and melodic.

"Richard started to look at Hannah differently, noticing that she no longer had the body of a little girl. He took advantage of that body repeatedly because he could. She wasn't strong enough to stop it."

Emily stopped her narration for a moment and raised her eyes to meet Grissom's. She had an almost defiant look on her face as she addressed him. "You may ask why Hannah didn't try to get help for herself, but you have no idea what it's like to live in an environment like that. To be bombarded on all sides by various types of abuse. To be lorded over by a man so cruel, so controlling, so completely terrifying - all the while knowing that if she made one misstep in his presence, she would pay for it with her life."

Lowering her eyes again, she added, "Besides, she knew no one would believe her if she tried to tell them. The town still considered Richard to be a saint and he would have found a way to twist Hannah's accusations to make himself look like the innocent victim. That's just the kind of manipulator he was."

Again, Emily paused for a moment. She smoothed her jeans with the palms of her hands in a symbolic gesture to smooth her nerves before resuming her narration.

"Peter was her only confidante, but Hannah was afraid to tell him what Richard was doing to her, because she knew he'd do something rash in order to protect her. She wouldn't risk his life in that way. She counted the few hours a week they spent together dear to her because they gave her the strength to survive. Instead, she tried to find ways to avoid Richard. She learned his schedule, analyzed his moods, and did her best to avoid situations that would end in abuse. It worked most of the time."

"About a month before her high school graduation, Peter came to Hannah with a carefully devised plan of extraction. He had been saving his money for the past six years and had enough saved to help them disappear. Everything had to be perfect because they both knew what would happen to them if they were caught. They would only get one chance."

"The departure date was set for the last day of Hannah's senior year. She left for school as normal but never arrived for her first class. Peter picked her up just outside of the school and they sped out of town without a backwards glance."

"They drove all day and all night, stopping only out of necessity until they reached Salt Lake City, Utah. Once there, they changed their names. And so, Peter and Hannah Douglass died and Adam Pryor and Emily Trent were born." Emily paused for a moment to wipe her hand across her forehead.

"We got an apartment together in Salt Lake City. I got a job and started saving money for school. I needed to live in Utah for awhile in order to establish residency and qualify for a cheaper rate at the state university."

"Once I started college, Adam moved out and joined the police academy. We decided that we'd be harder to track if we no longer lived together. Plus, we wouldn't have to make up a story to tell people when asked why we were living together. We even limited our contact to a phone call once a week and never met in public."

"When I graduated from Law School, the DA's office in Las Vegas offered me a job. Instead of coming with me, he got himself transferred to LA. We figured it was a good time to create more distance between us. It would be easier to keep our former lives a secret if we weren't worrying about running into each other in the same town."

"We called each other every other week and if we did meet in person, it was always in a different town. That photograph you found was from when we met up in San Francisco. I had always wanted to go there. It was taken in the Japanese Tea Garden like I said before. In fact, we were supposed to go back there, but I had to call him last week to say that I couldn't go. Too much going on at work. I told him that he should go anyway. He needed a break. He was always such a hard worker."

Emily shook her head in confused frustration. "Adam was so meticulous about all of the details. We even got our filmed developed in San Francisco so no one back home would see us together. I don't know why he left the photo in his car like that. I keep all of my pictures locked up."

"Maybe Adam's not the one who put it in the car." Grissom suggested.

As she considered this, weariness started to settle on Emily and she moved her elbow to the chair's arm rest and placed her head in her hand. Her voice had lost some of its calmness as she quietly said, "We thought that we'd accounted for everything. We even had a warning phrase that we could use to alert the other one if he ever showed up in one of our towns. Even though we had made new lives for ourselves, we never let our guards down. It's been ten years since we left that town. Yet somehow he found us. He found Adam, brought him here, and killed him just like he said he would. Now, it's my turn. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that Daddy always keeps his word."

This pronouncement sent a chill running down the spines of the men present. No one spoke for the longest time as their minds seemed to have temporarily lost the ability to form words. Instead, the men silently considered the profound effect that her story had on them.

Nick was nauseous almost to the point of being sick right there in Grissom's office. The story of her abuse at the hand of someone who should have been a protector hit home in an all-too familiar way. No one, especially a child, should ever have to suffer like that. A burning desire to find her abuser and make him pay for the atrocities he had inflicted upon his daughter began to rise in his chest.

As the only father in the room, Brass' thoughts immediately turned to his own daughter and their tumultuous relationship. No matter how mad she made him, he could never, ever, hurt Ellie in the way that Emily's father had hurt her. Fathers don't treat their kids like that. The knowledge that a man could have a wonderful daughter like Emily and yet treat her in the manner he did made Brass' blood boil.

Though he pitied her, Grissom was filled respect for Emily's inner strength. He had noticed how she had completely disassociated herself from what had happened to her as a child. Those things had happened to Hannah, not Emily, as if they were two completely different people. It was a coping mechanism that seemed to have worked fairly well for her and the scientist found it entirely fascinating.

After a few moments of silence, Grissom spoke up. "I'm going to assume that you don't have a picture of your father that we could use. Do you think you could describe him to a forensic artist so we could be on the look-out for him?"

Emily gave a weary nod. "Definitely. I see that face at least once a week in my nightmares."

The casual way in which she said this struck Grissom. He wondered what it must be like for her to have lived in constant fear of being discovered for the last ten years. He marveled at her ability to sit here in his office so calmly, with the knowledge that her brother was lying on a slab in the morgue, without completely succumbing to the fear he knew she must be feeling.

"Nick, will you take Emily to see our artist?" Grissom asked.

"Sure thing." He stood up and Emily did likewise. Nick wrapped a protective arm around her and they left the office together.

Grissom pressed his fingers together, considering the story that had just been related to him. Feeling as if he had just aged ten years, he asked Brass,"You ever hear anything like that before?"

"No way. That's the kind of stuff that television movies are made of." the homicide detective remarked dryly.

"Unfortunately for Emily Trent, it's all too real." Grissom sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Nick stood at a distance behind the glass window, watching Emily describe Richard to the forensic artist. His arms were folded tightly across his chest in an almost protective fashion. He did not turn to look at his supervisor when he came to stand next to him.

"How's it going?" the older CSI asked as he watched the artist work on her sketch.

"It's going." Nick replied with a slight edge to his voice.

Grissom turned his head a touch and eyed the other man. "Something bothering you, Nick?"

Nick was silent for a moment and without taking his eyes off the scene in front of him, he responded with a question, "Was all that necessary?"

Grissom thought for a moment. "You mean what happened back at Emily's house?"

Nick grunted in affirmation.

"Yes, I believe it was." Grissom stated confidently.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Nick rounded on his boss. He kept his voice low so as to not make a scene right there in the hallway. "You could have told her about the DNA results and then asked her about her family. She might have given us a straight answer. You could have done it differently, without causing a scene, but you didn't even try. "

"She wasn't going to tell us anything. She's been hiding from her past for the last ten years. People like that don't just calmly give up the truth. They're too used to denying it. Besides, she was a flight risk and fleeing was the last thing she needed to be doing. I had to get her to admit that she knew more than she was telling us as quickly as possible and forcing the truth out of her like that was the only way to resolve the situation." The pitch of Grissom's voice matched Nick's.

Nick did not back down. His voice carried an extreme force that matched his harden features. "Resolve it? You mean completely break her! She's not some random bad guy, Grissom! She's on our side, and she's a victim! She shouldn't have been put through the ringer like that! It's not fair! She's been through enough!"

Nick shook his head in frustration. He turned his gaze away from Grissom and back onto Emily. His angry features softened a bit as he watched Emily's movements and he sighed.

"Sometimes, I just don't understand people. He's her father. He's supposed to protect her, take care of her. How could a man violate his own daughter like that?" Nick's voiced dripped with disgust. He could feel his insides churning again at the thought. "It makes me sick."

Grissom studied the younger man's face. He knew what Nick would say if he started in on him about getting too emotionally involved in the case. This was old territory between them. For once, he decided to let it go. It was different this time and he knew it. The victim was a colleague, a friend. Perhaps even more than that to Nick. It was hard to remain detached when the victim was someone you cared about.

They stood side-by-side in silence for a moment. There was a question that Nick had been wanting to ask Grissom for a while now, but his stubborn annoyance at Grissom was battling against his curiosity. Finally, his curiosity won out. Without turning his head, Nick spoke again. "So how'd you know?"

"That they were related? Well, for one thing, she seemed scared when she found out he was dead and if she had been hiding from him, she wouldn't have felt the need to run away. Furthermore, there's the photo of Peter and Hannah that, at first glance, appears to be out of place unless it has some hidden relevance which it did. It was obviously put there to expose their true identities and force Emily to show her hand so to speak. Also, we know from the photo that Peter and Hannah were 6 years apart and so are Adam and Emily."

Grissom paused his explanation to take a breath. "As for the identity of the murderer, Adam wasn't old enough to have a son capable of overpowering him and killing him and the picture only shows two children, so the father seemed the most likely candidate."

Nick turned to stare at his boss and lowered his head as he mumbled, "I should have figured that out."

"Your thoughts were elsewhere." Grissom said simply, switching his gaze back to Emily.

Nick opened his mouth to ask what Grissom meant by this remark but closed it when Brass approached. "Hey fellas. How's our girl doing?"

"Should be done soon, I suspect." Nick said, checking his watch. "They've been going at it for almost an hour."

The three men stood in silence. In actuality there were other things that they should have been doing, but they couldn't bring themselves to do anything else. Perhaps they were feeling overprotective. How could they not after hearing Emily's story?

Finally, they saw Emily stand. As one, the three men walked forward.

"Well, that's it." Emily rubbed at a spot on the table, keeping her eyes adverted. "I hope it'll do. I don't know how much he's changed over the last ten years."

The men looked at the sketch that the artist had come up with. Richard Douglass bore a striking resemblance to his son. They had the same dark, handsome features. Nick wondered vaguely if Emily resembled her mother as her blonde hair and fair complexion were in stark contrast to her father and brother's.

"I'm sure it'll do fine." Brass assured her, taking the sketch from the artist. "I'm going to get this passed out. Every cop in Clark County's going to be looking for this guy in no time. All they need to know is that he's a cop killer."  
The fact that her head was still lowered partially construed the grateful smile that crept onto Emily's face. Brass' meaning was not lost on her. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate that."

As Brass walked away, Emily lifted her head and fixed Grissom with a piercing look, determination etched on her face. "I want to see him."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Adam's death was..." Grissom hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Are you sure you want to remember him that way?"

"Please. I need to see him." Her voice was soft but firm. It was clear that she was not about to change her mind.

"Okay." Grissom nodded. He could not refuse her the right of seeing her brother one last time. He shot a look at Nick, who understood its meaning.

"I'll take you. It's this way." Nick took Emily's arm and lead her in the direction of the morgue.

* * *

A few minutes later, Emily was standing in the morgue, staring at the covered body of her brother and trying to muster enough courage to raise the sheet. Nick was across from her and Doc Robbins was at the head of the slab. The two men did not speak a word or make an attempt to rush her. They knew that Emily needed to prepare herself for the sight she was about to see.

The silence was broken when Doc Robbins excused himself, deciding that perhaps Emily would like to be alone. He glanced at Nick before stepping away. Nick prepared to follow suit when Emily reached for his hand.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered.

Nick responded by drawing closer to her and squeezing her hand. This sign of support seemed to give Emily strength and she reached forward with her free hand and drew back the sheet.

She drew a sharp intake of breath. Though the blood and grime had been washed off the body, the bruising and cuts remained and nothing could hide the deep gash on Adam's throat.

"It's amazing. Even in death, he's still got such a kind, noble face. I don't know how he managed to keep it that way after all these years with everything he's been through." She stared at his face, bringing her hand up to gently touch the cold cheek. "He was so kind, so brave. He was always thinking of me first. He gave up so much for me, made so many sacrifices."

She bent forward and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. "He doesn't deserve this. He tried to protect me and this is his reward. It shouldn't be him lying here. It should be me. I'm the one who disobeyed. I ran away. My father warned me what would happen and I ignored him and let my brother put himself in danger. He did this to Adam because of me. He wanted me to see what he's going to do to me. This is my fault."

At this, the tears began to fall. Leaning down, she whispered in her brother's ear. "I'm so sorry! I would trade places with you in a heartbeat if I could! You have to believe me!"

There was an urgency in her voice that was practically begging the lifeless body to respond to her words, but they were met with an unbearable silence and whatever emotional strength that had been keeping Emily together up till that point gave way.

She practically threw herself at Nick and buried her face in his chest. Her sobs filled the morgue, echoing off the walls. Nick did nothing but hold her. He wished that he could block the sound of her sobs from his mind. He'd never heard anything like it - tears so full of grief and pain. He could feel his heart pound dully against his chest as he fought against the overwhelming emotions that were threatening to overtake him.

Nick longed to offer her comfort and in doing so, comfort himself, but knew his words would do nothing for her at this time. So he held Emily close in a tight embrace while she abandoned herself to her grief.

Some time later, Emily's sobs had ceased and silence had filled the room once again. Her head was resting on Nick's chest, rising and falling with every deep breath he took. She wished that she could stay there forever, feeling safe and secure in his embrace.

Suddenly, a loud growl emitted from Emily's stomach, disrupting the silence.

Emily looked up guiltily at Nick. "Sorry. Emotional upheaval makes me hungry."

Nick gave a tiny chuckle. "Well, let's see what we can do about that. There's a diner not too far from here that's pretty good for one of those 24 hour joints."

"I'm sure I look like a mess." Emily wiped at her eyes and her cheeks.

"You look great." Nick said, reaching up to smooth her hair with his hand.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they were seated in his SUV. Nick had told Grissom and Brass that they were going to Norm's Diner, a place very familiar to those on the graveyard shift. Grissom had been hesitant to let them go, but after a short debate with Nick, he finally agreed that a change of scenery might be good for Emily.

They drove in virtual silence to the diner and when they arrived, Nick sat for a moment before voicing the thought that had been in the back of his mind. "You really impress me, Emily. You haven't had an easy life, but you've made the most of it. Not only that, you've made a career out of fighting against injustice. Not just anybody would do that."

"I just want to help people, you know?" Emily stated. She looked at Nick with her blue eyes shining. He could hear some of the intensity he heard earlier that day in the courtroom creep back into her voice.

"For the most part, the victims that I see don't have anyone looking out for them. Sometimes all it takes for a person to be able to survive is the knowledge that there's someone fighting for them. If hadn't known that Adam was trying to figure out a way to save me, I would have given up a long time ago. He gave me strength. I just want to give that to someone else." Exhaling slowly, she looked down at her hands.

Nick nodded in understanding. "He sounds like he was an incredible man. I wish that I could have known him."

"He was incredible. You remind me of him in many ways." Emily confessed, shifting her gaze back to Nick.

Slightly embarrassed by her compliment, Nick looked away. He cleared his throat, . "Let's eat, shall we?"

They exited the vehicle. Nick turned to lock the door and glanced up to look at Emily through the windows when someone suddenly slammed her up against it. Her head was positioned in such a way that Nick could see the large knife that was pressed to her throat glisten.

He started to reach for his gun when a man's voice said, "Move another inch and I will swear I'll do it."

Not doubting him for a second, Nick held his hands up to show that he wasn't planning a quick draw. His eyes were locked on Emily. A cold wave of fear had washed over her. Nick knew that she recognized the voice of her father.

He slid Emily to the right and slammed her down on the hood, the knife still pressed to her throat and Nick looked into the face of Richard Douglass. He immediately understood why Emily was so terrified of him. His cold, hard eyes stared back at him, mocking him. He would have been handsome were it not for the cruelty that was etched all over his face. The faint smile on his face told Nick that he was enjoying himself immensely.

"Now, Nick, please slide your gun over to me ever so carefully, okay?" Richard allowed his smile to become a bit more pronounced as he said this. He dug the knife a bit harder into Emily's throat causing her to whimper in pain.

Nick swallowed and quickly tried to weigh all of his options. He didn't want to give up his gun, but Nick had no doubt in his mind that Richard would slit Emily's throat in a heartbeat if he tried something. This was not a man to be tested. He would have to give up his gun.

Slowly and carefully, Nick reached for his gun. He placed it on the hood of the car and pushed it across to Richard.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" His voice had an eerie calmness to it that sent a shiver down Nick's spine.

Richard reached forward and grabbed Nick's gun. He bent forward and placed his head next to Emily's. "I've been looking for you for a long time. I'm so glad that I finally found you. And now, sweetheart, we're going to go someplace where we can have a nice chat."

In one swift motion, he stood up, leveled the gun at Nick, and pulled the trigger.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Nick felt the bullet slam into his right shoulder as a scream pierced the night. He fell backwards and hit the ground with a thud. Instinctively, his left hand reached up to try to and stop the blood from flowing.

Richard moved quickly to Nick's side with Emily in tow, his arm wrapped securely around her throat. Silent tears were falling from her eyes as she tried to assess Nick's physical condition.

"Get up." he ordered, giving Nick's wounded shoulder a vicious kick.

Nick swallowed the cry of pain that had threatened to escape his lips. Carefully, he got to his feet while trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his shoulder. He forced himself to look straight into Richard's eyes without letting any sign of the pain he was feeling show on his face. This man fed off fear and Nick wasn't about to give into his. He refused to play the victim.

"Get in the car. You're gonna drive." Richard commanded without raising his voice. He didn't shout. There was no need. His intentions were quite clear.

At this, Emily spoke up in a frantic whisper. "No! Please don't make him come! He's not a part of this! I'll be good! I won't run away again! Please let him go, Daddy!"

Richard drew Emily up, bringing her close to his face. "I know you won't, Hannah, but I need him to drive so we can talk. I want to devote all of my attention to you."

His voice was sickly sweet but Emily cowered at his words as if he were shouting at her at the top of his lungs. She hung her head in silent acceptance and Richard switched his attention back to Nick. "Now get in the car."

Nick obeyed. Now was not the time for a drastic move.

Richard shoved Emily into the backseat before climbing in after her. He dug the barrel of Nick's gun in the back of the CSI's head and issued driving instructions to him.

Once Nick had started to drive, Richard stuck the gun into his waistband and returned his attention to his daughter. He moved closer to her and gently gripped the back of her neck. His cruel eyes studied Emily, who's posture screamed defeat. She was hunched over, staring wide-eyed at the floor.

Nick caught a glimpse of her in the rear view mirror and felt his heart sink. Emily Trent, the confident woman that Nick had come to know and respect was gone. In her place was the frightened, shattered soul that was Hannah Douglass, looking utterly lost and completely alone.

Richard began to whisper to her.

"I warned you, Hannah. I warned you what would happen if you left me." His voice was filled with a quiet rage. "You remember what I told you would happen if you left me?"

Emily mumbled something unintelligible.

"I can't hear you, Hannah. Speak up." he ordered.

"You said you'd find me and punish me and whoever helped me escape." Emily whispered, her voice shaky.

"And I kept my word, didn't I? You force my hand. I had to kill your brother. I had no choice. I wasn't about to let you make a liar out of me. Now look what you've done. You've let another man put himself in danger for you." Richard said, the fingers gripping her neck began to massage it gently.

He turned his head sharply to gave further driving instructions to Nick.

Swinging his head back to Emily, Richard took a few moments to stare at her. His gaze seemed to cause her physical pain as her body tried to collapse in on itself in order to hide from it.

"You were always testing me. You and that no good brother of yours. I built a home for the two of you and how do you repay me? By rejecting the names I gave you, pretending to be someone else! How do you think that makes me feel?" Richard's voice rose ever so slightly and he gripped harder at the back of Emily's neck.

"I'm sorry!" Emily whimpered, wincing at the pain his grip was inflicting on her.

"Not as sorry as you're gonna be." Richard breathed.

Perhaps the scariest thing about Richard Douglass was who cold and calculating he was. He knew exactly what to do and what to say in order to elicit the response he desired. He very rarely felt the need to raise his voice as his quiet tones were far more deadly. Very rarely did he resort to verbalized threats because his threats were implied in everything he did. The use of physical violence was not his primary source of amusement as he much preferred to break a person's spirit by inflicting psychological torment on them. He was reveling in doing just this to his daughter.

All this time, Richard had kept a firm grip on the large hunting knife in his hand. He contented himself with running the flat part of the blade back and forth across Emily's leg. She watched its progress with her eyes, her body trembling.

"You see this knife?" he asked her quietly. "I could see the fear in his eyes reflecting in the blade when I put it to Peter's throat. I pressed it hard against his throat for a long time. I wanted him to feel what it was like to stand on the edge of death, never knowing for sure when it would come but knowing that it eventually would. Inevitability mixed with uncertainty."

He paused and watched his hand run the knife back and forth across her leg. Then he gave a small smile and said, "I will say this for him. He died like a man - definant till the end. Of course, that was always his way. I would have expected nothing less from him."

He leaned closer until he was inches away from her ear and whispered, "You should have seen the blood flow out of him when I cut his throat. In the end, his own heart was his enemy as it pumped the blood right out of him, spraying everywhere like some sort of a fountain. It truly was a thing of beauty."

Emily's skin turned a chalky white and she looked like she was trying with some difficulty to keep from being sick. Her trembling increased as did the tears that streaked from her eyes.

This one-sided exchange between father and daughter made Nick's skin crawl. He could feel his insides churning at the image Richard's words had just created in his mind. He wanted desperately to block out the sound of Richard's voice, but he was drawn to it like people who come across a horrible accident can't help but stare at the carnage.

It seemed that Emily had inherited her ability to hold an audience captivated by the mere sound of her voice from her father. But while Emily's voice was pleasant to listen to and made you want to aspire to noble things, Richard's voice made you feel like you were in the presence of evil itself, making you want to surrender the will to live if only the sound of his voice stop. How Nick wished the voice would stop! It made it impossible for him to think about anything else.

Richard lifted the knife from her leg and suspended it in the air, admiring its deadliness.

"You want to touch it?" he asked with a smile. His voice dripped with a weird mixture of cruelness and casualness.

Emily shook her head violently. She did not want to touch the knife that had been used to end her brother's life. Just the thought of it made bile rise in her throat.

"I want you to touch it." he said, a trace of amusement now sounded in his voice.

"No. Please." she protested tearfully and tried to shrink away.

"Hold your hand up." he orderd in a commanding voice.

Not wanting to provoke him, Nick had remained silent up until this point. He was in no position to threaten the man, but he wasn't about to sit idly by and say nothing about this disgusting ordeal. He wanted to let Emily know that she wasn't alone.

"She doesn't want to! Leave her alone!" Nick tried to sound commanding all the while feeling incredibly foolish. However, his protest went unnoticed by both of them. They seemed to be lost in their own little world of terror.

Emily had still not raised her hand. She kept it balled in a fist in her lap. Richard put a hand underneath her chin and pulled her face towards him. "Look at me, Hannah."

She slowly looked up at him. Her sad, blue eyes stared into his pitiless ones. They conveyed to her the horror of her situation and told her that her impending death would be slow and it would be painful.

He spoke in a very slow, very deadly tone. "Now, hold your hand up."

Emily seemed to lose control over her own will. Uncurling her fist, she raised her hand. It shook unsteadily in the air, which only seemed to please Richard more. He placed his hand on top of hers and forced it to wrap around the blade of the knife. He squeezed her hand hard and Emily could feel the blade cut into her skin. She bit her lip in an effort to keep from crying out but a sob escaped her lips. Richard held her hand like this for a few minutes, watching the blood drip from her hand onto her jeans.

Finally, he released her hand and Emily drew it into her chest and cradled it there. She immediately dropped her gaze as Richard said, "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

* * *

In his office, Gil Grissom was taking a few minutes to collect himself. It had been a long shift already and it was only getting longer. Gil removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes.

So far, there had been no sightings of Richard Douglass. Deep down, Gil knew that he was going to be a hard man to find. Richard was dedicated to his task, careful and calculating. He wasn't about to make a careless mistake.

His moment of quiet contemplation was interrupted by Brass.

"We got a problem." the detective announced by way of greeting.

Grissom felt a tightness build in his chest. He did not like the look on Brass' face. "What happened?"

"We got a call. A shot was fired at Norm's Diner. The caller said he saw a man force a couple into a black SUV before it took off."

"Nick and Emily." Grissom through a clenched jaw.

The scientist slammed a fist down on his desk, angry at himself. He should have known that Richard was bold enough to make a move like this, but he had been temporarily blinded by his pity for Emily. He had willingly let Nick and Emily leave the lab and in doing so, expose themselves to danger.

"I already put an APB out on Nick's vehicle." Brass informed him.

"You said a shot were fired. Was anyone hurt?" Grissom asked, getting to his feet.

Brass shook his head. "The caller couldn't tell."

The CSI stopped at the door next to the detective. "We have to find them. Fast. That man won't hesitate to kill Nick once he's arrived at whatever destination he has in mind, and I don't even want to think about what he's planning on doing to Emily."

Grissom started to walk away but stopped short when he realized that Brass had not followed him. He turned to face the detective and gave him an inquisitive look.

"My gut tells me that there's going to be no standoff with a guy like Richard Douglass. He'll kill them without hesitation if he even suspects he's about to be cornered. Doesn't matter if he gets caught afterward. He'll spend his time in prison taking pleasure in the knowledge that he's accomplished what he set out to do." Brass stated grimly.

Grissom knew that the detective was right. He had said as much to Nick earlier that day. These were the worst suspects to deal with - the ones who didn't care at all what happened to them. They were twice as dangerous.

"We'll just have to find a way to gain the upper hand somehow," Grissom said. "Once we find them that is."

* * *

The scene that had just played out behind him brought reality crashing down on Nick and kicked his mind into high gear. He had been listening so intently to the conversation that he hadn't even been paying much attention to where they were going or the fact that they were on a road that was taking them away from the safety of the city lights. The number of trees dotting the road had begun to increase and the last thing that Nick needed to let happen was for Richard to get them somewhere secluded.

Nick knew his options were limited. Blood was seeping from his wound, staining the front of his shirt and running down his right arm. The pain in his shoulder was intense, but he wasn't about to let it stand in the way of his doing something.

An idea had occurred to him. It was risky to say the least, but it might give them a fighting chance, and he was determined to not give up without a fight. He felt that he owed it to Emily, who was clearly resigning herself to impending torture and death.

They were driving in a wooded area now with no cars visible ahead of them. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw that there were no cars behind them as well. It was now or never.

Without warning, Nick turned the steering wheel with a fierce jerk causing the car to spin off the road, heading in the opposite direction. He heard a shout behind him, and ignoring it, slammed down on the brakes while simultaneously turning the wheel, aiming for the object of his intent. The car skidded in the dirt until the driver's side of the vehicle smashed into the trees.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Nick had turned his head to look out the driver's side window and saw the trees rushing up on him as if in slow motion. He had to fight the natural, self-preserving impulse to turn the steering wheel away from the oncoming danger. At the last second, Nick turned his head away and closed his eyes, bracing for the impact.

The impact of the crash and the deployment of the air bag stunned Nick momentarily. He could feel a new lump forming on the side of his head and a pain in his leg, but he forced himself to stay focused. Behind him, he heard Richard let out a moan. Ignoring the new pain he was feeling, he turned his head to look at the backseat passengers.

Richard had a gash on the left side of his face and he was clutching his head. The man was clearly shaken by what had just happened. Nick noticed that he no longer had his knife and reasoned that he must have lost his grip on it during the crash.

Emily shook her head and clutched at her chest with one hand where the shoulder strap of her seatbelt was while fumbling to release it with her other. Though she was winded, she did not appear to be injured. She raised her head and her eyes locked with Nick's.

Nick's voice was firm and clear when he spoke. "Run."

She did not need telling twice.

Emily bolted from the car without a backwards glance and took off into the trees with the speed of an Olympic athlete.

The sudden movement of his daughter seemed to force Richard come to his senses. Behind him, Nick heard him let out a howl of rage and he watched the man take off after Emily. Nick immediately tried to follow them but found that his foot was lodged between the side of the car and the brake pedal. He tried to pull it out but it would not budge.

Aware that he was losing precious seconds, Nick clawed at the air bag, forcing it out of his way, and reached down and tried to work his foot out by twisting it instead of pulling it directly. He could feel it move ever so slightly and increased his effort.

"Come on!" he growled in frustration and worked harder in spite of the pain, not allowing the words "broken" and "sprained" to enter his mind.

Finally, he gave another almighty tug and his foot came free. He immediately scrambled over the seat and out of the passenger side door.

Nick took off into the trees in the direction that he had seen Emily and Richard head in. Pain was shooting up his left leg, but he ignored it and ran as fast as he could. The adrenaline coursing through his veins gave him the strength he needed to push through the pain.

His eyes scanned the area quickly. He couldn't see either Emily or Richard but he knew that they could not be too far ahead of him. Nick prayed that he would catch up to them before it was too late.

* * *

"Run." 

It was a simple word, a simple command. When she heard the word come out of Nick's mouth, Emily's mind had kicked into self-preservation mode and her legs had taken her away from the car without her even being conscious of it.

Running was one thing that Emily knew how to do well. She had been running for the past ten years. Running from the man who had tormented her and her loved ones for as long as she could remember. Running from the painful memories of her childhood. Running from the embarrassment and shame of her past. Running just to keep herself alive.

Now, Emily was running faster than she'd ever run in her life, dodging in and out of trees in an attempt to escape the one person she feared more than anything else. She fought the urge to turn around and see where her father was. That's how precious seconds were lost. No, she had to keep her eyes focused on what was in front of her. Besides, she could feel his presence behind her and her gut was telling her that he was gaining on her. Her lungs were screaming in protest, but she redoubled her effort. She had to. Her very life depended on it.

It was only after she had been running for a few minutes that Emily remembered Nick.

A pang of guilt struck her as she realized that she had left him behind in an unknown physical condition. How could she have abandoned him like that? Nick was her friend. He had demonstrated how much he cared for her by allowing himself to suffer physical harm in order to save her and she had left him behind without a moment's hesitation. What had happened to him? Had he suffered any more injuries? She only hoped that she would have the opportunity to ask his forgiveness for getting him involved in this whole ordeal.

As she maneuvered to the left in order to dodge a fallen limb, her foot sunk down in a hole. Emily managed to catch herself before almost falling flat on her face. She gave a cry of frustration as she stumbled a bit in an attempt to resume her speed. Try though she might, the damage was done.

Something slammed into her back and sent her crashing to the ground completely winded.

Richard had thrown himself at Emily and landed on top of her. She tried in to get away, but his strong hands would have none of it. He straddled her and forced her to turn over onto her back, pinning her arms to her side in the process.

Holding Nick's gun in his hand, he struck her across the face with it.

"You haven't changed a bit, Hannah. You're still the same pathetic, little slut you've always been." he growled savagely, striking her again.

"No! Stop! Please!" Emily cried but her pleas went unnoticed as she felt the full weight of the gun across her face.

"I've seen the way you carry on with that Nick. You flirt and you tease, practically throwing yourself at him. Begging him to take it. You're a whore just like your mother was." He struck her again.

Emily tasted blood in her mouth, felt it running from her nose and down her chin. Her father's hate-filled face was construed by the tears filling her eyes. She struggled in vain to get her arms free, but Richard's legs were wrapped so tightly around her that she was unable to extract them. She had no way to protect herself from his rage.

"I had hoped that you hadn't learned your mothers ways, but I soon saw that, like mother like daughter, you were just like her. Beating it out of you wasn't going to work, because there's just no changing you." Again, he struck his daughter with full force.

Emily coughed, causing blood to be expelled from her mouth. It splattered onto Richard's shirt.

"Your brother was a fool to throw his life away for the likes of you. He got what he deserved and so will you." The manic glint in his eye scared Emily more than anything else she'd been subjected to that night. She knew that look all too well.

"Please stop! It hurts so much!" Emily begged. She didn't know if she was begging for forgiveness or for death and she didn't care. She just wanted him to stop.

"You don't know the meaning of the word pain." Richard ceased speaking and continued to strike Emily with the gun. The sight of the blood flowing freely from her nose and mouth only encouraged him to strike her harder.

A few feet behind him, Nick appeared, breathing heavily. He spotted Richard on top of Emily and without slowing down, raced forward. With the force of a linebacker, Nick tackled Richard. The force of the impact sent the two men rolling away from Emily and the gun flying from Richard's hand.

The two men struggled with each other, fists flying. They rolled over and over on the ground, each man trying desperately to gain the upper hand. Neither one was about to show any signs of weakness. Finally, Richard landed a fist on Nick's gunshot wound, causing the younger man to involuntarily cry out in pain. Taking advantage of Nick's injury, Richard repeated the action again and again.

The pain was so intense that Nick was momentarily blinded. Richard seized the opportunity to climb on top of the injured CSI and place a firm grip on his windpipe. Frantic, Nick clawed at the hand on his throat, but this only caused Richard to press down harder.

A few feet away, Emily rolled over to see Nick in danger. She looked around for something to use as a weapon. Her eyes landed on the gun. She scrambled towards it, grabbed it, and got to her feet.

"Daddy!" Emily shouted, leveling the gun at him. It shook slightly in her hands.

Richard looked up at her and his eyes filled with amusement.

"Let him go!" she ordered with more courage than she felt.

Blood was pouring freely from her nose and mouth but she did not make an effort to stop it. Instead, she forced her hands to remain steady. She tightened her grip on the gun and ignored the pain in her palm from the cut she had received earlier.

Richard did not obey. Instead, he fixed Emily with a piercing gaze as if daring her to make him stop. Father and daughter were locked in a battle of wills and Richard's eyes made it clear that he was not about to give in.

Her father smiled at her and tightening his own grip on Nick's neck, he said, "You know you don't have the courage to pull the trigger."

"Let him go! I mean it! I'll do it!" Emily shouted. Her heart was pounding so hard against her chest that she feared it would burst, but instead of backing down, she took a step forward.

Richard's smile increased, mocking Emily's determination. He could sense her fear. It was coming off of her in waves. He laughed.

"You won't do it. You can't do it. You're the weak, little girl, always looking to someone else to save you. You're not the hero. You're the victim. You always will be. That's who you are."

His words resonated in her head. Adam had sacrificed himself to give her a new life and now Nick was about to give his in an effort to save her. Was her father right? Was she really incapable of saving herself? Emily's hand wavered, her face clouded with hesitancy.

"Now, put that gun down and watch me kill your white knight." Richard smirked, confidence etched all over his face.

A strangled cry escaped Nick's lips, forcing Emily's mind to the present. No. She already had her brother's death on her conscience. She wasn't about to add to that guilt. It was time to end this. Now.

She pulled the trigger.

The bullet caught Richard in the chest and he flew backwards, landing with thud.

Emily moved towards him and looked down at him, the gun still clenched in her hand. He coughed and sputtered, clutching at his chest. His face was a mixture of fear and surprise. Emily watched as the blood flowed from his wound and mixed with the dirt. She watched as her father's chest drew a ragged, final breath and then fell silent.

Everything grew deathly quiet and a wave of astonishment swept over Emily. What had she just done?

She took a few steps backwards and let the gun fall from her hand. She jumped when she felt a hand in the small of her back and turned to see Nick standing next to her.

Nick leaned forward to get a better look while massaging his throat. "Nice shot." he said hoarsely.

"I take target practice." Emily told him, rather dazed.

Nick turned to look at Emily, but his eyes could not focus on her. In fact, everything was swimming in and out of focus. He tried to reach his hand out for her but felt only air as the ground came rushing up to meet him.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"Nick!" Emily dropped to her knees and with a heave, flipped the CSI over onto his back. She patted his cheek in an effort to wake him up.

His eyes fluttered open. Confused, he asked quietly, "Emily? What happened?"

"You fell over. I think you've lost a lot of blood." she told him. Emily didn't know a lot gunshot wounds, but she figured Nick was going into shock and that she had to get help immediately. She looked down at his waist and saw his cell phone.

Emily grabbed it. "Nick, I'm going to call for help. Hey, look at me!" The sound of her sharp tone caused Nick's eyes, which had been on the verge of closing, to snap open.

"What?" he asked, groggily.

"You've got to keep your eyes open for me, okay? I'm gonna call Grissom. He's going to send help." Emily peered into his face and gave him a smile that conveyed more confidence than she felt.

She flipped open the phone and scanned for Grissom's number. As the phone rang, she placed her uninjured palm down on Nick's wound in an attempt to stop the blood that was still flowing.

"Nick?" Grissom's voice asked in surprise.

"No. It's Emily." she said.

"Is Richard with you?" Grissom asked anxiously.

"He's dead. Nick's hurt. I can't get him back to the car and even if I could, I'm not sure it's in any condition to drive. We need an ambulance." Emily urged. She could hear Brass' voice in the background, peppering Grissom with questions.

"What happened? How bad is he? Where are you?" Grissom questioned her.

"He was shot in the shoulder and then the car crashed and I don't know if he's got any internal injuries but there's all this blood coming from the gunshot wound and I"m trying to stop it but I can't tell if it's working and I think he's going into shock and he keeps wanting to close his eyes but I'm trying to keep him awake." The words flowed out of Emily's mouth at a rapid speed as she started to give into her panic.

"Okay. Stay calm. You're doing fine. Just keep applying pressure and try to keep him awake." Grissom tried to reassure her in a calm tone. "Do you know where you are?"

"Some woods or something. There are a lot of trees. I don't know!" She breathed deep and tried to calm herself. She looked down at Nick. "Nick, do you know where we are?" She asked.

"What?" He stared at her and tried to shift his eyes back in focus.

Emily leaned forward and got closer to Nick's face. "Do you know where we were before the car crashed?"

"On the way to the lake." he breathed.

"On the way to the lake." she repeated to Grissom.

"Okay. That's a place to start. How long were you driving before the accident?" Grissom asked. Emily could hear a rustling sound on the other end of the phone.

"About twenty minutes I think. Maybe more. I don't know I lost track of time. I'm sorry." Emily's voice cracked.

"It's okay. We're going to find you. Keep talking to Nick and keep this line open, okay? We'll be there soon with help." Grissom assured her.

From the moment that he had heard Emily's voice, Grissom had sprung into action. He had already gotten a map out and begun analyzing the different streets in an attempt to figure out just where Emily and Nick were while Brass looked over his shoulder. The supervisor was overjoyed to see that there was only one possible road that they could be on.

He jabbed his finger at the road and Brass whipped out his own cell phone to call for help.

Grissom turned his attention back to Emily as he rushed out of his office. He could hear her talking to Nick, trying to keep him awake and focused. He silently wondered how bad Nick was and hoped the ambulance would reach them soon.

* * *

On the other end, Emily tried to keep Nick awake by asking him the first question that popped in her head. "So, Nick, got any brothers and sisters?" 

"I got a brother and five sisters." he mumbled.

"Wow. Six siblings. That's a lot. Where do you fall in the birth order?" She asked. Emily felt stupid to be asking him about his personal history with an air that suggested they were talking over coffee rather than lost in the woods after sustaining multiple injuries.

"I'm the youngest." he said. His head lolled to one side and Emily reached forward and smacked his cheek. His eyes flew open.

"The baby of the family. Just like me." Emily swiped the back of the hand that was holding the cell phone across her face to wipe away the blood that was running down her chin.

She was so tired and her arm hurt from trying to apply pressure to Nick's wound. Emily just wanted to lay down and go to sleep and make this horrible night just a memory, but she forced herself to stay focused for Nick's sake.

"Must be tough being the youngest of seven." she said.

"There are worse things. Getting shot for instance." Nick made a feeble attempt to smile.

"I'm sorry about that." Emily apologized, leaning a bit closer to his face. She gave a sniff and rubbed at her face again.

"Are you okay? You're bleeding." Nick asked, finally able to focus enough to notice the blood on her face.

"Don't you worry about me. So what is it that your father does?" Emily already knew this, but she couldn't think of anything else to ask. She wanted to keep Nick's attention on something other than what they'd been through.

"He's a judge. I thought I told you that." Nick murmured.

"You did. I guess I forgot." She lied clumsily.

She wondered what it must have been like for him to grow up in such a large family - to be loved by so many people. She wondered what it must be like to have a father you could actually respect instead of having one who was pure evil.

Emily felt the pang of self-loathing. How could she sit her feeling like that when Nick was pain because of her? How could she disrespect the memory of her brother like that? Had he not proved his love for her time and time again by risking his life for her? What better testament to love is there than self-sacrifice?

Emily tightened her grip on the cell phone as she felt a fresh wave of tears sting her eyes. She fought against the wave of emotions threatening to overtake her. She had to be strong.

Nick shivered. "It's cold. Why is it so cold?"

"I'm sorry. Just hang on, okay? Help's coming soon. Then we'll get you warm and all fixed up. Sound good?" Emily tried to snuggle closer to him in order to provide a bit more warmth.

She was about to ask Nick more questions when she heard a sound in the distance. Sirens. The calvary had arrived.

* * *

Emily shouted herself hoarse in an attempt to lead the paramedics to her position. When she saw them come stumbling through the trees, she gave a sigh of relief. They immediately moved her to the side and began their efforts to stabilize Nick. 

As Emily watched them load him on a stretcher and carry him off, Grissom and Brass appeared through the trees and came over to her side.

"Is he going to be okay?" Emily asked, her eyes following the EMTs as they carried Nick away.

"He'll be fine. You did a good job." Grissom said with confidence. He took a moment to study her face. "We need to get you checked out too."

"No. It's okay. I'm fine." she said, bringing her hand up to hide her face and in doing so made it possible for Grissom to see the cut on her palm.

"There's a lot of blood. I think your nose might be broken. Your hand needs to be looked at as well. That's a deep cut." Grissom stated, taking hold of her hand.

He reached out to take hold of her arm so as to gently try to lead her away, but she shook him off.

"It's nothing I'm not used to." She breathed, shaking her head. She tried to take a few steps away from them but was unsteady on her feet. Brass reached out to keep her from falling.

"I'm just tired." Her voice was weary. It was clear that the emotional strain of the evening was finally hitting Emily with full force.

"I just want to sit down. Can we sit?" she asked, turning her blue eyes to Grissom.

"Sure. We can sit." Grissom gave her a small smile.

He was about to suggest heading back to the road where the ambulance was, when Emily unceremoniously plopped down on the ground. Brass gave the CSI the tiniest fraction of a smile as they both joined the prosecutor on the ground.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Grissom asked her slowly.

In a voice that sounded completely unnatural to her, Emily began to recount the events of the evening. She told them how Richard had appeared at the diner, made Nick hand over his gun, and then shot him. She told them how Richard had forced Nick to drive while he sat in the back with her. She told them how Nick had crashed the car on purpose in order to give her the chance to escape. She told them how Richard had caught up with her and forced her to the ground. She told them how Nick had tackled Richard and how they had struggled.

"And he was on top of Nick, choking him. I picked up the gun and told him to let go, but he wouldn't listen. He was going to kill him, so I shot him. I killed my father." The full weight of her words seem to hit her like a ton of bricks as if she was only now realizing the full ramifications of what she had done. Eyes growing wide, she clamped a hand over her mouth.

A dry sob escaped her lips. "I did it! I've dreamt about doing it for a long time, but I never thought I'd actually do it! I can't believe it! He's gone! I don't know what to do! I don't think I can handle this!"

At these words, she began to rock back and forth, wringing her hands and searching the ground frantically for something that she could not find. Her breathing became erratic and tears began to run down her cheeks and mingle with the blood on her chin and under her nose.

Even though it was against his nature, Grissom grabbed the young woman and pulled her into a tight embrace as she collapsed into a full-fledge emotional breakdown. He smoothed her hair as she cried uncontrollably and they sat together on the ground until the morning light signaled the dawn of a new day.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Well, this is the last chapter. Thank you for sticking with me on my first multi-chapter piece. I appreciate the feedback. I'm in the process of working on two new pieces so I'll be back!

Chapter Nine

Hours later, Grissom sat reading a magazine or attempting to anyway. He was having some difficulty staying focused. Every now and then, his eyes would flicker to the figure lying in the bed next to him.

He had been relieved when the doctor had told him that Nick would be okay. His CSI had lost a lot of blood and had sustained a few injuries, including a sprained ankle, as a result of the car crash, but there would be no lasting damage. Given the circumstances, Grissom had figured that Nick had gotten off lucky.

Grissom sighed and gave up, placing the magazine in his lap. He was feeling uncharacteristically antsy as his nerves still had not completely settled down. He would feel better once he had the chance to talk to Nick and know for sure that he was okay. Then he could resume his established role as the unemotional supervisor.

Finally, the figure in the bed began to stir. Grissom moved to the edge of his seat as Nick opened his eyes.

Nick's eyes darted around in confusion, trying to figure out where he was and why he was lying in bed. Then the events of the previous night came flooding back to him. He winced slightly as he moved his right arm. He heard movement on his left and his eyes landed on Grissom.

"Grissom?" Nick croaked, making an effort to sit up and wincing even more. "Where's Emily?"

"She's in the next room getting some much needed sleep." Grissom informed him.

After Emily had finally calmed down, he had gotten her to agree to be checked out by the EMTs. They had taken her back to the hospital for an x-ray which indicated that not only was her nose broken, her right cheekbone had a small fracture as well.

The doctor had given her some pain medication and was going to send her home, but Emily had refused to leave. She didn't want to leave until she had made sure that Nick was okay. Since Nick was asleep, the doctor had graciously let the poor young woman collapse in a hospital bed in the meantime.

"Is she okay?" Nick asked, worry etched on his face.

"She will be. Thanks, in part, to you." Grissom replied. "She told me what you did. That was a risky thing to do."

Nick leaned back and sighed. Was he going to get a lecture now? He wasn't sure if he was up for it. His tired mind went on the defensive. "My options were limited. I just wanted to take control of the situation somehow and give her a fighting chance. I wanted her to know that I wasn't ready to give up and neither should she."

"It was still a risky thing to do." Grissom repeated. He paused for a moment before saying, "And a very brave thing to do. You kept your head in a terrible situation and used the advantage of surprise to gain the upper hand against Richard Douglass. Well done."

Nick rested his head against the pillow and smiled slightly at these rare words of praise from Grissom. He closed his eyes for a few minutes and lay so still that Grissom thought for a moment that he'd gone back to sleep until the young man spoke again.

"I've seen a lot of bad guys in my time, some really nasty characters, but this guy takes the cake. I've never seen a man so completely evil, who revealed so much in the pain he inflicted on his daughter. The things he said to her, what he did, the sound of his voice, that look in his eyes - I'll never forget it. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm glad he's dead."

Grissom remained silent, letting Nick's words hang in the air between them. He understood what Nick was feeling but refrained from voicing his own opinion.

There was a sound at the door and both men turned to see Emily hovering at the entrance. She looked down, slightly embarrassed by the interruption she had caused.

Realizing his presence was no longer required, Grissom stood up. "I'm going to check in with Brass. I'll be back later to see how you're doing, Nicky."

He brushed past Emily on his way out. Instead of moving into the room however, she continued to linger in the doorway as if she was unsure as to whether or not she was welcome inside.

"Come in. Have a seat." Nick waved her in with a smile.

Silently, Emily entered the room and seated herself in the chair that Grissom had just vacated. She kept her head down and played with her bandaged hand as she spoke in a quiet voice. "Look, I'm really sorry for everything that happened. I understand if you're mad at me."

Nick was confused. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because I lied to you. I lied about my past and put you in danger. You could have died and it would have been my fault." Emily wiped at the stray tear that had fallen on her cheek.

With some effort and a fair amount of discomfort, Nick forced himself to sit up straighter. "Hey, look at me." he said in a firm voice. She raised her eyes to meet his.

"A lot of people have secrets in their past that they want to keep hidden because they're afraid how others will respond. When things happen to people that are beyond their control, they feel ashamed, partially to blame, even though it's completely irrational for them to feel that way. They think they'll be rejected by those they care about if they knew the truth. You don't ever have to feel that way with me. What happened to you as a child was not your fault. What happened to your brother was not your fault. What happened to me was not your fault. I'm not mad at you. No way. You're an incredible woman, Emily, and you have nothing but my respect and admiration."

He leaned back a bit and said with a smile, "Besides, I can't be mad at the woman who saved my life."

Emily couldn't help but return his smile. She moved her chair closer to the bed and leaned forward, concern in her eyes. "Are you really okay?"

"Nothing a couple of weeks of paid leave won't cure." Nick said with a smile. He raised his hand and gently touched Emily's unbruised cheek. "What about you? You gonna be okay?"

She reached up and grabbed his hand, interlocking her fingers with his. "I don't know. This is a weird feeling to get used to."

"What feeling is that?" he asked curiously.

"The sense of freedom. For the first time in my life, I was able to lay down and go to sleep without being scared. I don't have to be ruled by fear anymore. I've been looking over my shoulder for the last ten years. Now I can focus on moving forward. It's going to take some time to adjust, but I think I'll enjoy it." Emily smiled.

A silence fell between them. Emily laid Nick's hand back down on the bed, but left her fingers intertwined with his.

She stared at their hands as she said, "I'm just going to miss Adam so much. I wish that he could have known what this was like - to be free from worry, to know that we were finally safe."

Emily sighed and looked away. "I feel so selfish to be talking about moving on with my life while he's never going to get the chance to."

He squeezed her hand gently. "You wouldn't be the caring person you are if you didn't feel that way, but I'm fairly certain that your brother would be proud of you and happy that you finally have the chance for a normal life. That's what he wanted to give you."

"Thank you," she said, looking deep into his eyes. "Thank you for everything you did for me. I wouldn't have survived if it wasn't for you. You gave me strength."

"I just wanted you to know that you weren't alone." Nick said in a quiet voice. "You're never alone."

Neither one felt the need to say anything else so they sat together in a peaceful silence until Nick finally drifted back off to sleep.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you to consider the evidence: his skin on under her fingers nails; her blood on his clothes; his fingerprints on the knife. All of this physical evidence clearly points to the defendant as Samantha Jensen's killer. He made a threat against her life and then carried it out."

The prosecutor's melodic voice filled the courtroom once again, just as it had a month ago, as she took a step closer to the jury.

She concluded her closing argument with these final words. "He showed no pity. He showed no mercy. He preyed on her fears and made them a reality. I am asking you to bring this man to justice, to make him pay for his crime against this poor young woman. Do not let this man go free so that he can do to another woman what he did to Samantha. Thank you."

She turned on her heel and made her way back to her seat as the smack of the gavel sounded. The judge dismissed the jury and called a recess.

As Emily placed her papers in her briefcase, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Nick's smiling face.

Her face broke out into a similar smile. "Hey there. It's good to see you. You all put back together I see."

Nick chuckled. He spread his hands as if he were on display. "Good as new."

"That's good. I'm glad." she said as they began to make their way out of the court room.

"So, how are you doing?" he asked. Nick steered her over to a bench and they sat down.

"Oh, you know. Keeping busy." Emily gave him a half smile.

Emily had taken some personal time to make arrangements for Adam and sort through his personal belongings in Los Angeles, before jumping back into work. Much to her relief, the media had not caught wind of the events surrounding the murder of Adam Pryor. She was spared from having her past displayed for all of Las Vegas to see on the evening news.

She gave a deep sigh. "I miss him. I will always miss him, but the best way I can think of to honor his memory is to move on with my life. That's what he would have wanted."

Nick nodded in understanding. True victims always stayed trapped in the moment of their abuse, unable to escape the painful memories, but survivors found a way to work through those memories and keep living their lives. Yes, Emily would always miss her brother, but she would not allow herself to get lost in her grief and forget to live. Otherwise, everything her brother did for her would have been done in vain and Emily was not about to let that happen. That determination was the mark of a true survivor and Nick was glad to see that Emily possessed it.

"Well Miss Trent, I believe I still owe you a celebratory lunch." Nick said with a grin.

"That you do, Investigator Stokes. What shall we celebrate?" Emily asked with amusement.

Nick thought for a moment before answering, "Life, love, and new beginnings."

"That sounds perfect." Emily said with genuine affection in her voice.

Nick stood up and offered his hand to the young woman who eagerly accepted it. Together, they walked hand in hand and made their way out of the courthouse and into the sunshine.

-Fin-


End file.
